Broken Ones
by Shae07
Summary: Loss. Loneliness. Bucky understands what you're going through, even if he doesn't say it. Takes place after Endgame so, SPOILERS.


**Sometimes we're left behind**

**Feel like the only one**

**2024**

"We won."

It's been almost a year, and Peter's words from that day still echo through your mind on occasion, always accompanied by the smell of burnt flesh, gunpowder, blood, and the distinct smell of apricots. Outrider blood smelled oddly enough like apricots.

_It will get easier._

That's what they said.

It has and it hasn't.

The world had been restored. Families reunited, just as Tony had wanted.

A happy ending.

The good guys had won.

But you lost.

Days like today are the hardest – damp and cold. Dark grey clouds look as if they could open up at any moment, unleashing a storm. A heavy downpour of torrential rain with lighting that cracks across the sky as thunder booms loud enough to rattle your chest.

You wish for it, maybe it would drown out the memories.

You're sitting on the bench, one leg crossed over the other, mindlessly picking at the frayed edges of the hole in your jeans – knee exposed. The black granite statue in front of you portrays a woman, whose beauty you never thought a piece of stone could capture, but it does.

Still not as beautiful as the real thing.

Those eyes. You were always jealous of them. It was almost magical the way they could transform – much like Banner – a deep pine green when she was furious to a stunning sea green when she was happy and laughing.

Natasha Romanoff was your idol.

She was a mentor.

Your best friend.

Family.

You don't hear him approach, then again you never do. Only feel the shift of the bench with his weight as he sits down beside you. He offers you the green and white coffee cup in his hand, an identical one located in his other gloved hand.

With a half-smile, you accept the cup, knowing it's a salted caramel mocha, extra shot, extra whip. You're not even sure when he figured out your go-to order, but your thankful.

Sam always gets it wrong.

He shoves the now empty hand into his jacket pocket and leans back. You glance up at him for a moment. His short, dark hair a contrast to the look you'd grown accustomed to, but it suits him. His blue eyes staring thoughtfully at the statues in front of you. You turn back to look at the three statues which were built.

_In Remembrance._

You lean your head against Barnes' shoulder. At least once a month you've been coming here alone, and he always shows up.

Barnes had been out for a morning jog that first time, you were on the bench, silent tears streaming down your face. He had approached you quietly and sat down on the bench beside you. There were no words exchanged, nor had he tried to console you, he just sat there. It was comforting, even though you never told him.

He always lets you be – alone.

Without being alone.

You appreciate it.

Not everyone understands what it's like to visit ghosts.

Bucky does though.

**2017**

Being on the run changes people.

It's changing Steve.

That's why, after dropping Wanda in Cairo for some time off to sightsee, which meant Vision is probably meeting up with her, Nat puts the coordinates in the quinjet. Everyone needs a little R&R, especially Rogers.

So, Wakanda it is.

The greetings are warm and welcoming when you all arrive. Everyone slowly makes their way inside where T'Challa promises only the best food and drinks for the weary warriors.

Bucky comes to you, because out of all of Steve's friends, you'll know, and you'll tell him. He knows that you're more intimate with Steve than anyone else is aware of. After all, he had picked up on it the first time you visited.

"How is he?" Barnes asks, falling into step beside you. The two of you watch as Steve and T'Challa chat while walking several steps ahead.

"Not good," your response is quiet. "That's why we're here."

He glances down at you, "That bad, huh?"

"I'm worried about him," you look up at the man with long hair. The two of you have never had a full conversation, but you always get a feeling of comfort when you're around Barnes.

"How are you doing?" his question throws you for a second. You've been so caught up trying to help Natasha keep Steve on track that you haven't thought of yourself.

Furrowing your brows, you take a deep breath, "I don't know."

**2023**

You walk through the portal with Barnes, unaware five years have passed. The last thing you remember was fighting Thanos in the woods, helping pull Nat from the stones she was pinned under, and seeing her green eyes widen in horror as she reached for you. You'd felt the sick, twist in your stomach as you glanced down and watched as your body began to disintegrate into ash.

Seeing Steve across the battlefield makes you smile. You see it, even through his battle worn appearance, you can see it in his eyes.

Hope.

It's a fight like none other, while you see faces you know and faces you don't. A familiar voice from behind you causes you to turn around.

"Hi guys," Barton states, climbing up the hill beside Barnes. The gold gauntlet tucked under his arm like a football.

"Hey Clint," you smile, but notice the pained look on his face as he looks at you. You brush it off as you look back over to the horde of Outriders closing in on your location. "Just in time."

"Someone else want a turn?" Barton offers the gauntlet to Barnes. He looks at it for a moment before glancing at the advancing army, then looking at you.

"I have an idea," Bucky states.

"What?" you question, narrowing your eyes.

Before you can react, the soldier has lowered his weapon, grabbed yours and holstered it for you. "Barnes – what –" He takes the gauntlet from Barton and shoves it against your chest, pulling both of your arms around it.

"Sam, I have a package for you," Bucky states into his comm, giving you a nod and you shake your head strongly.

"No."

"It's not even my birthday," Sam's voice comes across jokingly.

"Trust me," the man smirks at you. "Just like a ride at Coney Island."

"Barnes," you warn as he steps up on a piece of broken concrete beside you. Giving him leverage above you. "Barnes – no."

"I'll meet you on the other side kid," Clint nods toward the horde as he pulls an arrow from his quiver.

"One," Barnes begins to count. "Two."

"I hate you," you say as you feel his metal hand grab the straps of your shoulder harness.

"Three." He uses his leverage and strength not only from the serum, but the enhancements in the vibranium arm to jerk you from the ground and launch you straight up into the air. "Sam, catch."

You can't contain the scream that flies from your mouth as you leave the ground, your eyes slamming shut. The rush of wind around you is all you feel as you clutch the gauntlet tightly to your chest.

"I got ya," you hear Sam's voice through your comm before his hand grabs the harness on your back. "And I know just where to drop you."

"Drop me?" you ask frantically.

"Heads up Cap," the smirk on Sam's face can be heard through everyone's comms. "Got you something." Wilson releases you and your head is spinning, even with your eyes closed, as you free fall back to the ground.

Steve catches you easily and when you open your eyes, you instantly see the sadness there as he looks down at you. He tries to cover it with a small, soft smile before leaning in to place a chaste kiss against your lips.

"Hi," he says when he pulls away.

"Hey," you reply, wondering what he's not saying. "What's wrong?"

He shakes his head as Barton's voice comes across the comms, "What you want to do with that thing, Cap?"

"We have to keep the stones," he states looking up as Clint approaches, seeing another horde not far behind him. "Get it out of here." Steve pulls the gauntlet away from you and tosses it back to Barton as he runs past the two of you.

It isn't until after the battle that you find out the reason behind Steve's attitude towards you. Tony's sacrifice is a gut punch to all and as Strange solemnly opens portals to return everyone to wherever they came from, you realize you still haven't seen the one face you'd been looking for during the battle.

The innocent, confused look on your face as you approach him and Thor, rips his heart further from his chest, "Where's Nat?"

Steve doesn't know how to tell you.

To break your heart further.

He can't.

Clint tells you, while your eyes are still red and raw from crying over Tony. He's the one who holds you as the rest of your heart shatters. Steve drops his head and Thor places a hand on his friend's shoulder.

They had won, but they had also lost.

You don't blame Steve for leaving. He deserves to be happy and living here – now – has too many reminders of the things he's lost.

If you could, you would run too.

You've thought about it.

**2024**

Barnes always stays as long as you do, then quietly walks you back to your apartment.

Chivalry isn't dead.

Unless you consider that Barnes is technically over a hundred years old, in which case, it should be dead. You've made that joke in your head countless times.

One day you'll share it with him.

"I miss him," he says softly as the two of you approach your building. It's rare for him to be the first to speak.

"Yea, me too," you reply, fighting back the lump forming in your throat. "I miss Nat."

"I really liked her," Barnes responds. "She was a good person, even if I did try to kill her."

"Three times," you add with a sad smirk as you turn to him, having reached the door to your building. He nods slightly in agreement, surprised at your knowledge of that. "She told me about it."

"Right."

"Thanks for walking me back," you say, just like you always do.

"No problem," his blue eyes soft, yet sad, as he shoves his hands inside his jacket pockets. "I'll see ya later."

You nod as he turns to walk back down the sidewalk. The sky still dark grey and looking as if it could rip open at any moment unleashing that storm.

"Barnes," you call after him, because days like today are the hardest and maybe not just for you.

Lonely hurts.

You know it firsthand.

He turns around expectantly, curious eyes watching you fidget with your keys.

"You want to come up?" you question him nervously. "Have a drink, maybe?"

The corners of his lips turn up a little as he starts to walk back towards you, "A drink?" You both know alcohol has no effect on him.

You take a deep breath as he moves closer, glancing down at the keys in your hand as you say, "I don't – want to be alone."

Looking back up as he brushes past, you watch him slowly open the door to your building. His gaze meeting yours as he says softly, "_That_ – I understand."

The two of you are, unfortunately, members of the same club. Having been through something that very few would ever understand. Natasha and Tony. Steve hadn't died in front of you, but it felt like he had.

Losing friends – family.

The sacrifices to save others.

A death that was not meaningless, but what was the meaning?

Especially for those left behind.

It raises the ultimate question.

Which is worse?

Being the one to die or being the one to survive?


End file.
